Fate is a Funny Thing
by Jedi Annie Scrambler
Summary: One night stand before the first day of your new job and oops that was your new boss you were sleeping with AU, Rumbelle
1. Chapter 1

"C'mon Belle! It's Friday night! You have to go out!" Ruby Lucas chided as she tugged on her neighbor's arm.

"Ruby, I don't know. I mean clubs aren't really my scene," Belle French fidgeted. Her best friend from the apartment across the hall was always trying to get to to go out, get her to meet a guy.

"It's Friday night, you just broke up with that jerk Gaston and you start your new job on Monday, it's the perfect time to go out!" Ruby bounced on her toes, "Come on Belle! Just this once! Please?"

"All right, I guess," Belle said, giving in, "But not too late."

"Wheeeee! Great! I call picking you an outfit!"

Two hours and one too-short gold dress later, Belle was standing in a fancy club, trying to make conversation over the music. Unfortunately, her conversational partner was too much like her ex, more muscle on her arms than in his head, and Belle was bored, bored, bored. She had a headache.

"Excuse me," she yelled, and moved away, hoping the first door she saw would be a bathroom.

Rumold Gold was having a horrible time. His blind date, Zelena Green, was positively insane. She was too clingy and insisted on touching almost every moment they were together. She laughed at everything he said and obviously only after him for his money. Rumold Gold was the CEO of Gold Books, the most famous book store chain in the world.

He had managed to rid himself of Zelena for the moment, sending her on a wild goose chase to fetch him fictitious cocktail called Unicorn Blood. He was greatly surprised and amused, however, when a tiny brunette in a tinier gold dress let herself into his private room at Club Castle.

"Is there something I can help you with dearie?" he asked.

The woman jumped, "oh my gosh, you startled me! I'm sorry, I can leave, I was just looking for a quiet place to clear my head. It's really loud out there."

"Indeed it is," he agreed, "Well, you can stay if you like. As you probably noticed this room is completely sound proof."

"Thank you," she slid into the booth next to him, "I'm Belle, by the way."

"You can call me Rum," he offered, "make yourself at home."

She smiled in return and fished around in her bag for a book, a classic, and began to read. Surprised but now very curious, he looked at he more closely.

Belle was wearing an off the shoulder gold dress that shimmered every time she moved. It was low enough to entice him with her collar bone, smeared with a fine gold dust, and short enough to show off her fabulous legs. Rumold was enchanted to say the least.

After several pages, Belle looked and noticed him watching her.

"I'm sorry! That was so rude! I must be buzzed," Belle said "What brings you to the Club Castle?"

"Blind date. Horrid things, really," he said.

"Oh! Maybe I should go, I don't want to intrude-"

"No intrusion at all," Rum said, "Between you and me, she's off her rocker."

Belle giggled.

"So why is a beautiful young woman such as your self here in my booth reading and listening to an old man talk about his date he's dodging?"

"I'm not really one for the club scene," Belle admitted, "My neighbor drug me out. She says it's the perfect time to have a one night stand since I broke up with my boyfriend yesterday and I start a new job Monday."

"Ah, I see," he said, not seeing at all.

"So," said Belle after a moment of silence, "You want to be that guy? My one night stand in the perfect setting? You can ditch your date and at least get coffee with me or something. What do you say?"

She bumped her shoulder against his.

Well.

This was an odd turn of events. It had been a long time since a beautiful woman had sincerely offered to sleep with him. (Had a beautiful woman _ever_ sincerely offered to sleep with him?) And leaving Zelena to bed this strange woman who read in clubs was best idea he'd heard all day.

Maybe she was drunk.

"How much have you had to drink?" He asked eyeing her glass.

Belle laughed, "Like, one sip of my gin and tonic. I'm not drunk Rum."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Well in that case-" he leaned over and crashed his month against hers.

Belle wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss with passion. Braking away, Rum grabbed her hand.

"Let's hurry before my date gets back," he said and added silently, and before you change you mind.

Out in the cold night air, he hailed a cab, pulled Belle in, onto his lap, and gave the driver an address.

"You don't mind my place do you?" he asked between kisses.

Belle shook her head and laughed, "I should do this more often."

Rum ran kisses along her collar bone, causing Belle to moan as he sucked at her pulse point. As the cab pulled up to a high rise, they were both in a red, kissing induced haze. They barely made it up to Rum's apartment before Belle's dress was on the floor, followed by his jacket and tie and her underwear.

Rumold's apartment was a pent house, and expertly decorated with book shelves galore, but Belle didn't notice as they fell onto his bed together. She tugged at his shirt, unbuttoning it and trying to push it off his shoulders.

"Hasty, aren't you?" he teased, "Don't worry, we have all night."

"It's not fair," she whined, "Me being undressed and not you."

"Mmmm, you are beautiful," he murmured, cupping her breasts and gently pushing back to lay on the bed.

He moved away then, to take off his shoes and the rest of his clothes. Belle lay watching him as he rolled on a condom.

"And you are deviously handsome, Rum," she said grinning.

"You need to have you eyes checked," he whispered, lifting one of her legs to kiss the inside of her knee. His kisses moved closer, further up her leg until he was hovered over her sex, already wet. Belle trembled with anticipation.

He gently kissed her folds before running his tongue along them. Belle mewed, and tried to buck her hips, but he held her in place. He continued to lap at her core, teeth and tongue finding the little bundle of nerves at her center. Little nibbles giving her pleasure she never imagined.

Belle lost herself, screaming as she came for the first time that night. Rumold grinned and added his fingers to dip inside her and caress her inner walls. He brought her to climax twice more with his mouth and hand, thoroughly pleased with the way she screamed and trembled.

He kissed his way back up her body. Nudging her legs open he pushed inside of her in one swift movement. Belle moaned and arched. Gaston had been mush bigger in stature compared to Rum, let Rum was much _larger_, filling her in a way she'd never felt before.

Rum kissed her throat with each firm thrust as Belle sobbed his name. She broke all over again. And, several thrusts later, Rum did too, biting at her neck as he came.

He rolled onto his side. Tucking Belle under his chin in the afterglow. She sighed and snuggled closer, wrapping her arms around him. She felt safe and protected, which was odd considering she'd only met Rum several hours ago. Rum, in turn kissed the top of her head before falling asleep.

Maybe Ruby was right and she did need to get out more.

Belle woke up the next morning before Rum did. She smiled, looking up at him. He was actually much more adorably in the morning light. She untangled herself from his arms and pulled the blanket away. He was so good last night, she wanted to return the favor.

She moved down between his legs and bent over. Belle ran her tongue along his tip causing Rum to sigh in his sleep. She took this as a god sign and kissed his tip before taking him into her mouth and sucking gently.

Rumold woke to the most pleasing sensation. Opening his eyes he found his little one night stand with her mouth around his cock, grinning at him cheekily. This was new also. Usually his one night stands disappeared before morning or stayed too long and tried to get some money out of the deal not return the favor as Belle was doing now.

Belle's head bobbed between his legs. Rumold moaned and, gripping the sheets as to not grab her hair, came in her mouth. Belle swallowed and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

"I guess this is the part where I go home? I'm not sure. I don't do this often- or at all," she said innocently.

"At least stay for breakfast," he offered, not wanting to let this, this _goddess_ out of his sight.

So she stayed, dressed in his shirt and sitting in his lap for coffee, french toast, and a discussion of of Bronte. Rum was content, wishing this wouldn't end and he could keep Belle, this strange woman who was most beautiful and possibly better read than he.

But, alas, as she disappeared to dress he called her a cab, and wished her well as she left. Gently kissing her one last time. Maybe he'd see her again, on the street or in a book store. He could ask her out and they could do this properly. He doubted it. Fate never worked in his favor.

"Well, well, well, look who's doing the walk of shame," Ruby teased as belle fumbled with her keys, "Who's the lucky guy? Was he any good?"

"Brilliant," Belle sighed, then laughed at her self, "But I'll probably never see him again. It's too bad, really. He was charming and intelligent and-"

"Good in bed?"

"Yes! That too. His name was Rum and goodness, I don't even know his last name!"

"Scandalous!" Ruby laughed, "I'm glad you had a good time, Belle, you seem way happier."

"Well, enough of that, I have to go prepare for tomorrow."

"Ah yes, worrying over your new job. Secretary for who was it?" asked Ruby.

"The CEO of Gold Books!"

"Right, right, I think you've maybe mentioned it a million times?"

Sunday came and went and as Monday rolled around Belle found herself following Mary Margret Blanchard, head of HR, to her new desk.

"Mr. Gold likes tea every morning at nine on the dot. Don't be late. He takes Earl Grey with cream and no sugar," Mary Margret said.

"Nine am, Early Grey with cream not sugar, don't be late," Belle repeated, "Got it."

"This is the com," Mary Margret explained, "Once you have the tea ready, press this button and tell him so. He normally just clicks his com in response. Then take it in and pour the tea. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Mr. Gold will also only have whole leaves steeped in a tea pot and served that way. I already made this morning's tea so you can bring it in and pour once I alert him. Then Mr. Gold can tell you the rest of your duties, okay?"

"Alright!" Belle replied picking up the tray.

Mary Margret pressed the com, "Your new secretary here with your tea Mr. Gold."

There was a click of the other com and Belle walked through the office door, shutting it behind her. Mr. Gold was facing away from her, towards the windows when her entered. Belle set the tea tray on the desk and picked up a tea cup.

"So you are the new sacrifice," Mr. Gold said spinning around.

Belle dropped the cup. It fell against the desk and chipped.

"B-Belle? " Mr. Gold stuttered.

"Rum?" she whispered.

Fate had a funny way of doing things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The teacup rolled off the desk onto the floor with a muffled clink. The room, which had temporary froze in time, sprang back to life. Belle gasped and dropped to the floor to pick up the cup.

"I'm sorry! It's chipped," she stood and held it up, "You can barely see it?"

Gold didn't look at the cup, "it's just a cup."

Belle set it down and, with trembling hand, began to serve the tea.

"I didn't know it was you on Friday, I swear," she said.

"I don't normally do things like that," she said.

"I thought I was never going to see you again," she said.

"If I'd have know who you were, I'd never have asked you anything like that," she said.

"I find that very hard to believe, Dearie," he said coolly, then took a sip of the tea she'd finished preparing.

He burnt his tongue.

"Excuse me?" Belle's eyes widened and her face flushed anew. This time with anger.

"Are you implying that I slept with you on purpose? Because I know that you were my boss?" Belle was fuming, quietly, "What would that even accomplish?"

"Leverage, maybe? Blackmail? I cannot begin to fathom how the mind of women such as yourself work," he sneered.

"Women such as myself?!" she exclaimed and took a step forward, "If I'd have known-

It was then that Mary Margret, hearing the swell of voices, rushed in.

"Alright, that's enough!" the director of HR snapped, then, calmly said, "Belle, may I have a word with Mr. Gold?"

Belle nodded, still seething, and exited, the office door slamming behind her.

She dropped into the chair behind her new desk. She was so fired. She hadn't even been there an hour and she was going to be fired. Belle sighed.

"Hello," a voice broke through her thoughts, "Are you Rumold's secretary?"

"I am at the moment," Belle replied, sitting up straighter.

The voice belonged to a tall woman with long, red hair. She was skinny yet curvy with eyes Belle would later describe as green and a bit crazy.

"How can I help you?" Belle asked.

"You can deliver these to Rumold," the woman placed a bouquet of poppies on the desk, "and let him know that there is someone special her to see him."

Belle glanced at the office door where the muffled voices of Mary Margret and Mr. Gold could be heard arguing.

"Um, Mr. Gold is in a meeting at the moment. But as soon as he's available I will do just that," Belle said.

"Oh, you must be new," the woman said, "I'm _Zelena Greene,_ his girlfriend."

Belle paused, "did you... go out with Mr. Gold Friday night? To Club Castle?"

"Yes! You have heard of me!" Zelena exclaimed.

Belle made a rash and impulsive decision. (She was very good at these.)

She picked up the phone and said, "connect me to security please."

"Security, this is Emma Swan."

"Yes, there is a woman here bothering Mr. Gold, he'd like her removed," Belle said sweetly.

Even in retrospect, Belle had no idea why she did that. Was it a weird jealousy for a man she just decided she despised? Did she want to go out with a bang? Whatever it was, within seconds of her call, a giant man was there, gabbing Zelena by the arm.

"Unhand me!" she cried.

"What is going on here?" Mr. gold bellowed. He had come out of his office, with Mary Margret following, to see what all the commotion was about.

"Rumold!" Zelena was hysteric, "Your secretary is trying to have me thrown out! Stop her!"

Gold looked from Zelena to Belle to Zelena again.

Then he said, "Miss French was correct, take her away, Dove," and wave dismissively at Zelena and the giant man inexplicably name for a tiny bird.

"What?! Rumold! Noooooo-" Zelena's protests could be heard even after the elevator doors shut behind them.

"Miss French stays and that is final!" Mr. Gold snapped at Mary Margaret. He punctuated this by walking back into his office and slamming the door.

Both women stared at the door for a moment, before Belle leaned back in her chair and spun around.

A half an hour ago, Mary Margret, finished with explaining Belle's secretarial duties, retreated back to HR.

Mr. Gold has sent Belle a six word email.

**To: bfrench **

**From: rgold **

**Subject: [blank]**

**I am not taking any calls.**

Slightly annoyed, but more surprised that she was still employed, Belle turned away fifteen calls. One from a publisher, three from IT, five from the vise president of Gold Books, and six from Zelena.

Then, a well dressed man wearing a top hat and ascot walked in.

"I'm sorry," Belle started, "Mr. Gold isn't-"

"Taking calls, I know," he finished and pulled out an ID card, "Jefferson Madden, IT. Here to fix the big guy's hard drive."

"Wait, I-!" Jefferson breezed through the office door and let it click shut on her protests.

"What do you want?" Mr. Gold sighed.

Jefferson dropped into a chair and began playing with his hat.

"Your new secretary is cute," the IT technician commented, "Hey, they usually don't last long, can I ask her number?"

Gold briefly glanced up from his work, "no."

"Well it was worth a try. Listen, I was thinking-"

"A dangerous habit-"

"-about what you said yesterday when you came to Grace's dance recital?"

"I thought we agreed not to talk about it," Gold growled.

"I think we should find your mystery girl. What did you say her name was? Belle?" Jefferson continued.

"Madden," warned Gold.

"But she made you happy, Rumple Bumple! Happier then I think I've ever seen you!"

"Drop it, Madden. Do not call me that. I've already located her, quite by accident," said Gold.

"Really? Great! Let's schedule a double date- you, me, this Belle girl, and the V.P. Mills! We'll paint the town blue!" Jefferson exclaimed, "I can't wait to meet her!"

"You already have," Rumold would not meet the younger man's eyes.

"Really? Where?"

Mr. Gold pressed the interoffice intercom, "Miss French, bring me the publishers list. It's the red folder in the bottom drawer."

"Yes, Mr. Gold," her reply was tinny in the intercom and moments later she walked in and handed him the file.

Jefferson's eyes, wide, followed her out. He was silent a moment.

"Her?" He cried, then hissed in a whisper, "Your new secretary?"

Gold continued working.

"It _is_ her, well that's super. When's the wedding? Grace is dying to be a flower girl."

"There is no wedding," Gold snapped, "Sleeping with her was a stupid mistake, Madden, one I won't make twice."

ooo

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," Belle whispered into her phone.

She was hiding in the bathroom on her lunch break trying to call Ruby. Her previously mentioned neighbor-slash-best friend, Ruby Lucas worked at Bloomingdale's in the make up department.

"Pick up," she tapped her shoes on the linoleum.

"What's up _ma cherie_?" Ruby answered, finally.

"I messed up, Ruby, totally and completely fucked up," Belle said, "Literally."

"Whoa there, that's some pretty strong language coming from you, B, what happened? And make it snappy, I need to get back post haste."

Belle took a deep breath, "You know that guy I met? Friday? You know..."

"The one you banged harder than a screen door in a hurricane?"

"Ruby!" Belle gasped.

"Well it's true. What about Mr. Great Sex?" Ruby probed.

"Don't call him that!" Belle hissed, "I- I found him?"

"You found him? Belle! That's great! I have to meet him-"

"He's my new boss," Belle interrupted, "and a total jerk."

"WHAT?" Belle held the phone away from her ear.

"Oh man, your new boss? That's the worst," giggled Ruby.

Belle sighed, "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Ask for a raise? Kidding! Kidding. You are going to tell me exactly how it went down," Ruby said, "Over drinks and cookies. But now I have to get back to work."

"'Kay, see you tonight."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So after saying over and over again last week that, no, I'm not writing any more, this happens.**


	3. Chapter 3

"So, tell me everything," Belle was lounging on Ruby's sofa, one arm draped over her eyes in a dramatic position. Ruby bounced on the edge of the couch. She enjoyed drama, especially when it involved sex.

"There's not a lot to tell," Belle sat up and took a small sip of wine, "We were both shocked and slightly embarrassed at the sight of, well, each other."

"Were there fireworks? True love at second sight?"This has to be fate!" Ruby gushed.

She was blowing things out of proportion to either amuse of annoy, Belle couldn't tell which. Deciding on the latter she rolled her eyes.

"He's a jerk," she said, "He even had the nerve to imply that I knew who he was on Friday!"

"He didn't!" Ruby faked-gasped, egging her friend on.

"Yes! And I'd already said I didn't know! And then I threw his girlfriend out."

"You threw who out?" Ruby's live-in boyfriend asked.

Archibald Hopper- Archie for short- was a psychiatrist and complete opposite of Ruby. He was quiet and shy, where Ruby was outgoing and loved attention; he was logical she dramatic; they complemented each other well.

Belle was a little jealous of their relationship, but in a good natured, I'm-happy-you're-happy way.

"Belle threw her bosses girlfriend out," Ruby explained.

"Okay, I'm not sure she was his girlfriend," Belle sighed, "_She_ said she was his girlfriend but I think they only went out once."

"And what was the through process behind kicking this woman out?" Archie asked, going into therapist mode.

"Belle's sleeping with her new boss," Ruby explained and poured herself another glass of wine.

"I am not!" Belle cried.

"Any more," corrected Ruby.

Archie did not understand.

"I don't understand," he said.

Belle sighed, "I don't either. Not if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a nice, long bath and reread some thing by Jane Austen."

As she left, Archie corked the bottle of wine.

"Tomorrow, when you are sober, you're going to explain why your normally level headed friend is sleeping with her boss," he kissed her on the forehead, "but now we are going to bed."

Across the city, Rumold Gold was standing in his empty apartment. He looked into his empty whiskey glass and crossed into the bedroom. He removed his tie, his jacket. Stooping to take off his shoes he noticed something gold colored under his bed. His knee protested as he bent search under the bed.

It was her underwear. Belle's. It was gold and lacy and smelled of her. He ran his fingers along the scrap of fabric, remembering how he had stripped it from her body nights ago. He remembered the way her breath hitched, the way she moaned at his touch. But more than that, the way she snuggled in his lap and spoke of literature like a scholar.

By this time he was sitting at the edge of his bed, hand down his unbuttoned trousers stroking his cock. He grunted and pumped harder, imagining his Belle in his lap, behind his desk. His phone would ring and he would knock it away. He'd pull her closer and she'd arch, burying his length deeper inside her body.

Rumold grunted again and came into a handful tissues.

He finished undressing and laid down in bed. When did she become his Belle?

Perhaps when she broke his damn cup.

…

Day two of the most awkward job ever. Nine am, Belle walked into Mr. Gold's office, tea tray in hand. His eyes did not leave her as she prepared the tea.

"Tomorrow bring two cups," he said once she had finished, "And you will prepare the tea on the right side of my desk, not in front. Understood?"

"Yes Mr. Gold," Belle said.

Belle walked back to her desk and sat down. Then the intercom buzzed.

"Yes Mr. Gold?" she asked.

"Fetch me the publishers list," he said.

Belle pulled the list she brought him yesterday (it has mysteriously returned to it's place in her desk drawer) and walked it into the office.

"Come inside when I buzz for you," he said taking the folder, "I detest communicating through the com."

"Yes Mr. Gold," Belle said and licked her lips. She would not get annoyed, she would not get annoyed.

She was not back at her desk for five minutes when he buzzed her again. She walked into the office to his desk.

"Yes Mr. Gold?" she ask, struggling to keep her tone level.

"Fetch a pen and pad of paper, Miss French, I need to write a letter," he said, not bothering to look at her.

"Yes Mr. Gold," her voice was chipped as she walked back to her desk, located the required equipment and walked back into his office. She took a seat in the chair across from the desk and cocked her head, await for him to dictate to her.

"Move your chair," he growled, "You will sit to the right of my desk, same as when you prepare tea, not at the front, never at the front."

He dictated the letter as she wrote, then he told her to read it back to him. He asked to see it, and tore it up.

"Again," he snapped, and repeated the letter with several small changes.

Belle handed him he second finished letter and he tore that one up also. She was livid. And they repeated the process three more times before she produced a letter he approved of- or at least tolerated.

"This is tolerable," Mr. Gold said, "You may leave."

Belle stalked out and took her lunch before he could change his mind and make her write another letter. Finding her way to the lunch room she surveyed her options. There were four tables, each occupied by at least one person.

Table one: a blonde woman in a red jacket was trying to decide where next to take a bite from her sandwich. Next to her was Mary Margret.

Table Two: Jefferson Madden.

Table Three: an Asian woman and woman with reddish hair. Their heads were bent together, deep in conversation.

Table Four: another red head, this woman was wearing a purple shirt and green blazer. Belle recognized her as the receptionist.

She approached table four.

"Hi, you're Ariel right?" Belle tried, "I'm Belle. Can I sit here?"

"Belle! Hi! I remember you! Of course you can sit here. How are you?" Ariel said, ginning and pulling out a chair.

"I'm fine, I am excellent," Belle replied, not sounding the most certain.

"That's good. So... you're new, I'll give you the low down on everybody," Ariel giggled, "Receptionists know everything."

"Oh great,"

Ariel gestured to the blonde in the red leather, "That's Emma Swan, head of security. She hates Vise President Mills, but then again, so does every one."

"I'm guessing you've met Mary Margret, HR director?" Belle nodded, "She and Emma are roommates."

"That's Jefferson Madden-"

"I met him yesterday," Belle interrupted, "He works in IT right?"

"Yep, you're catching on fast!" Ariel looked to the two other women, "Those two are Mulan Fa and Aurora Winsor- Rory for short. Rory is in accounting and Mulan works in marketing."

Belle nodded, "Rory in accounting and Mulan in marketing, got it."

"And I'm Ariel of course! Reception! Where are you working?"

"I'm Mr. Gold's new secretary," Belle said.

Ariel spit out her drink, "What? I'm so so so sorry!"

"So you're the one who called me yesterday," Emma Swan said, finishing her sandwich.

Belle nodded.

"Sorry to tell you this, but Gold's a bastard and his secretaries last about a month at the longest," Emma threw the sandwich wrapper away before turning to Mary Margret, "How long did the last one last?"

"Two days," Mary Margret sighed, "And it was a pity, Ashley was such a nice girl."

"Gold doesn't do nice," Jefferson pointed out, "But I give you a week, tops."

"Two," Emma countered, "She looks tough."

Belle wrinkled her nose, "Thanks, I think?"

Back at her desk, Belle received radio silence from Mr. Gold. It was welcome. After an hour of opening mail and replying to emails, a woman with short black hair and a sleek pants suit stopped in front of her desk.

"Well, well, well, are you Gold's new girl? He does like them young," the woman sneered, then extended her hand, "Regina Mills, Vise President of Gold Books."

"Belle French," Belle introduced, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mills."

"I'm sure," Regina said, "So is Rumold getting you whipped into shape? Don't get too comfortable, his secretaries have the life expectancy of a fruit fly."

"So I hear," Belle replied, not quiet sure how to take that.

"Well, you enjoy your little stint with us and don't forget you can always contact HR if there's any _inappropriate_ workplace behavior," Regina said, waving and departing.

Belle put her head down on the desk. What had she gotten herself into?


	4. Chapter 4

Day three. Belle was determined not to give it and quit. Maybe she would outlast even the longest lasting secretary even if it was just by a day. Thus far, she'd outlasted the last one.

Nine A.M., she walked into Mr. Gold's office bearing a tea tray with two cups. Gold watched as she prepared the his tea at the right side of his desk.

He took a sip and waved his hand, "Go on, the other cup is for you. I'm not that thirsty."

"Yes Mr. Gold," her patience renewed this morning, Belle made the second cup and pulled a chair next to him. She crossed one leg over the other.

Gold took his ever present cane, gold handled and quite serious looking, in his right hand and tapped her foot.

"Do not sit like that, with your leg thrown over the other. Sit with your ankles crossed beneath your chair," he snapped.

Belle took a breath and switched her legs, "Better?" she asked.

He gave her a long look, eyes tracking across her body, making her feel exposed and small, "Much."

She sat up straighter and pulled her shoulders down, she would be brave. She silently sipped her tea.

He nodded, "very nice."

She fixed her eyes ahead, not looking at him. They sat in silence a moment before he said, "Really dearie, is it so bad? I suppose I am. They do call me the beast."

"And you will see, if you don't already now. You'll run like the rest," he said.

"It's a pity, really, you are very promising," he said.

"They are taking bets on you, downstairs, how long the beautiful young thing will last with the beast. How long it takes before you flee- or before I eat you alive," he said.

"I believe," she set her empty cup down on the tray, "You've already done that."

He was surprised, "Aye, I suppose I have."

"Is there anything else?" she asked as she collected the tea things.

"No, dearie, you can go."

"Yes Mr. Gold," she said and exited.

Jefferson was sitting on her desk.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Serving Mr. Gold his morning tea," Belle said.

Jefferson was confused, "How long does it take to give him tea? I've been sitting here twenty minutes."

"He requested I take tea also. I don't know why," sighed Belle.

"He… wants you… to drink tea… with him?" the odd man asked, setting his top hat on the desk.

"Mm hm," Belle fiddled with the brim.

Jefferson's eyes shifted from the secretary to the office door and back to Belle, "Okay, well I need to talk to the boss man again, about his solid state drive."

Belle nodded. Jefferson stormed into the office and slammed the door.

"You like her!" he whisper-yelled, "You really really like her!"

"What are you talking about? Why are you even here?" Mr. Gold said.

"You like Belle!" Jefferson crowed, "And do you know how I know? You don't like people, generally. True, there are some exceptions, like me and Grace and you can handle Emma Swan every once and a while, but normally, you hate people. And, morning tea is your nice, quiet, alone time when no one is supposed to bother you and you can be alone and think about ways to make people hate you or whatever it is you do."

"So, why would you want her to have tea with you? You've never invited your secretaries to take tea with you! Normally it's 'don't let the door hit you on the way out, dearie,'" he continued.

"It is a quaint theory, but wrong. You see, Madden, I like to collect beautiful things, and Miss French is beautiful. She is trying so hard not to lose her patience. But, alas, I do not 'like' Miss French as you insist."

"Me thinks thou protest too much," was the reply.

"Why are you here again?" Gold asked.

"I did come to pester you for Regina's number, I want to practice my prank calling this weekend," Jefferson said, "But now I have a new directive! Getting the girl to fall for her arse of a boss."

"No."

"Yes!" and Jefferson skipped out the door.

Mr. Gold sighed. Belle falling in love with him would never happen. And even if she ever did fancy him, it would only be a for a fleeting moment. She would leave, or turn against him- they always did.

He pushed the com. He would, at least, enjoy her while he could.

Belle walked across the room, "Yes Mr. Gold?"

He waved at the book shelves that lined the walls, "Organize my books by color Miss French."

She spent the rest of the day in his office, bending and stretching to order the books how he requested. Her chest felt tight as he watched her. He made no comment, which was worse than any insult he could have thrown her way. Words were hollow, but not his eyes.

It was past seven before she finished. Mr. Gold walked around the room, leaning heavily on his cane, as he observed her work. He stopped so they were standing inches apart; she could feel the warmth of his body.

"Well done, Miss French," he said and reached up, as if to touch her. As if he was going to gently cup her face. He stopped only a hair's breath from her skin and withdrew. Belle let the breath she hadn't realized she was holding out.

"You may leave," he said.

"Goodnight," she whispered and departed.

…

Day four was uneventful. Uneventful in the way that Gold still pulled the same crap, but she was expecting it. In the morning he asked her what types of books she preferred. In the afternoon he made her sit beside him and read his mail to him. In the evening, Emma Swan stopped by to say hello.

What Belle didn't know was that she was the topic of conversation for Jefferson and Emma at lunch.

"Why do you want me to eat lunch in the dungeon?" Emma asked Jefferson.

"Hi Tink," she said to Tinker Isabelle Fae, Tinker Belle or Tink, for short.

"Don't call it the dungeon," Jefferson scolded, "It's home. And you are here because I made a list of people Mr. Gold does not hate and that list is you and me and Belle French. But this is about Belle French, so she can't be here."

"Why are we having a meeting about Gold's secretary? Has she quit yet?" Emma asked.

"No, nothing like that. Gold has a crush on her," Jefferson said.

"Ha! That's a good one Madden," Emma snorted, "What's this really about? Does Grace want to have another play date with Henry? Because you know I don't have custody yet. You'll have to talk to Regina."

"You two would be a cute couple, you should ask her out," Jefferson said, "But, back to Gold. I am not joking, he has it bad for Belle."

"Say I did believe you, what does this have to do with me?" Emma took a bite of her sandwich.

"I just want you to talk to Belle, figure out where she is in all of this," he said, "Then we can plan our next steps."

"One," Emma held up a finger, "There is no us, I am not getting fired over your crazy matchmaker scheme. And two, how am I supposed to talk to Belle about this? It's not like the lunch room's very private."

Jefferson shrugged, "Take her out for ice cream or something. I know you like that ice cream parlor Frozen. And the owner, Elsa, isn't too bad either."

Emma grinned, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Fast forward several hours to that evening. Emma approached Belle's desk.

"Um, Hi Belle, how are you?" she said.

"Fine, thank you. Mr. Gold is on the phone but is there something I can help you with?"

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you actually, not Gold. I don't want to talk to Gold."

"Yes?"

"Do you want to go get some ice cream next Monday at lunch? There's this great place across the street called Frozen and you can never have enough ice cream!" Emma said, then laughed nervously.

"Okay," Belle nodded, "That sounds like fun, although it is a bit chilly for ice cream. Shall we meet out front at one?"

"Sounds good! But, I mean, the cold never really bothered me anyway," Emma said and all but ran out of the outer office.

…

Day five. Friday. It had been a week since Rumold Gold and Belle French first met at that fated night club. Belle was wearing a black blouse and brown skirt. Mr. Gold sniffed when she entered with the tea.

"You look better in gold. Or blue," he said as she sat down beside him, "blue would bring out your eyes. But brown is dull."

"Thank you? I think," Belle said.

"Never wear orange."

"Alright. Neither should you."

"Obviously."

With that their conversation grew quiet and after a half hour, Belle carried the tray back to her desk. The com buzzed as she set it down. Sighing, she walked back into the office, wondering what fresh hell Gold was going to deliver.

"Yes Mr. Gold?"

"Down the hall is a supply closet, go fetch me a box of pencils," he instructed.

"Yes Mr. Gold," she said.

What Gold did not mention was if the closet was down the right side of the hall or the left. His office was in the center of the building. Belle went right and chose a door at random.

"Oh! Excuse me!" Belle exclaimed. She had opened the door of a small office where a greasy-looking man with a but of stubble sat behind a desk.

"I was looking for the supply closet," Belle explained, "Sorry!"

"Not a problem," the man said getting up, "I can show you where it is. Keith Nottingham, by the way."

"Belle French, pleased to meet you."

"Oh the pleasure in mine," he said, and pulled open a door, "Here's the closet you were looking for."

"Thank you!" Belle said, stepping inside to grab a box of pencils. But when she turned Keith was standing in the door way, one hand on each side of the door frame, blocking her in.

"Excuse me, can I get by?" Belle asked.

"Oh I don't think you want to do that, you see, I have a lot of power here. I can get you fired with just a word," Keith sneered.

"I don't think you can," Belle said, "Now can I please get by?"

"You're a feisty one-"

"What is going on here?" a familiar voice interrupted.

"Mr. Gold!" Keith turned and Belle darted out from under his arm, "I was just showing this girl the supply closet."

"I'll bet you were, go back to my office, Belle," he said.

Once she was out of sight, Gold grabbed Keith Nottingham by the arm and swung him against the wall. In a swift motion he pined his cane against his throat. Keith choked.

"If I ever see you near her again I will end you, understand?" Gold hissed, "And if I find out you hurt her today, I will hurt you ten times worse than you can even imagine."

"Ooh does someone have a new toy?" Keith managed to cough out before Gold pressed harder on his jugular, "Stay way from her."

He pushed him down, onto the ground and walked back to his office. Belle stood in the center, looking nervous.

"Mr. Gold, I can explain-" she started.

Gold held up a hand, silencing her.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, a quiet force behind his words. He reached up a tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"No, he didn't touch me," Belle said.

Mr. Gold nodded, "He won't bother you again. If he does, if he so much as takes the same elevator as you, tell me. Understood?"

Belle nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

The com buzzed, summoning Belle into his office. The walk was long, so long, into Mr. Gold's desk.

"Yes Mr. Gold?" she asked.

He didn't bother to look at her, only said, "Take off your panties and come sit on my lap."

"Mr. Gold?" Belle questioned, heart pounding.

"Did I stutter?" he snapped, turning to her and hold out his hand.

Belle pulled her underwear down and stepped out of of them. She handed them to Gold and he tucked the scrap of fabric in his jacket pocket.

"Face forward, dearie," he said as settled onto his lap, "and spread you legs."

Belle sat, legs startling his lap, her back to his front as he instructed. Mr. Gold brushed away her hair and kissed the back of her neck.

"Good girl," he whispered, then spun back to his desk and began working again.

One hand on the mouse, the other moved between her legs. He spread her already wet folds and began to stroke her clit. Belle moaned and arched, head back on his shoulder. He hummed into the curve of her neck, planted little kisses along her skin and dipped two fingers inside her.

"Please, please," Belle begged, writhing against him.

"What is it, Miss French?" he said, pumping his fingers in and out, scissoring them to spread her wider.

Belle felt herself edge closer to her breaking point. She moaned-

-and woke up.

Belle groaned and rolled over, flushed and aroused. She burred her face in her hands and tried to slow her race heart by focusing on the sound of the rain against her window.

She didn't like him, she really didn't, that would only complicate matters. He was horrid, a jerk, cruel, arrogant, stuck up.

What she had intended to say, that first morning was, "If I'd have known what a cruel bastard you were I would have never have slept with you!"

But Mary Margret had spoiled the whole thing. (It was probably for the better, she needed this job.)

It was like he was two different people, Jekyll and Hyde, Rumold and Gold. Rumold- sweet and passionate, hiding from his blind date and playing with her hair as they ate breakfast. Mr. Gold- sharp and cold, his gaze searing into her, making her perform nonsense tasks over and over again.

Belle couldn't stop thinking about him, all of him. She craved him, craved Rumold, craved Gold.

She groaned into her pillow. This was not supposed to happen.

Belle woke the next day to a pounding on her door.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Ruby called from the outside.

"Ruby, she's probably asleep," Archie said.

"I don't care! She needs to get up! I have been waiting all night to tell her!" Ruby whined.

Belle, wrapped in her robe, pulled open the door, "It's seven in the morning on a Saturday. What is it?"

"Belle! You're awake! Yay!" Ruby cheered and pushed past her friend.

Archie smiled sympatheticly, "We brought breakfast."

A few minutes later, eating pancakes in Belle's living room, Belle asked, "So, why'd you wake me up way to early on a Saturday?"

"Well..." Ruby and Archie grabbed hands in a cutesy fashion, "We're going to have a baby!"

"What? Ruby! Archie! That's great!" Belle cried, hugging her friends, "When did you find out?"

"Last night," Archie said, "But it was too late to tell you."

"_I_ didn't think it was too late," Ruby said.

"Ruby, it was three am," Archie scolded.

"Well... I was excited. And, Belle, Archie's going to make me an honest woman! Would you be my maid of honor?"

"Of course, Ruby. I'm so happy for you!" Belle giggled.

"So what are you up to today?" Archie asked, "Now that you're awake."

Belle paused a moment before answering, "Same thing I do every other Saturday, I'm going to go visit my dad."

…

It was three subway transfers and a two block walk from Belle's apartment to the rehabilitation center where her father was living. The building was tall and sterile, the interior sparingly in varying shades of white. (Perhaps she was being romantic, there really was only one shade of white.) It was a bleak, bright place ans she often heard screaming echoing down the long corridors.

She hated going there.

But it was where her father had lived for the past year, as he was enrolled in their program for recovering drug addicts. Moe French was addicted to a rare drug called Fairy Dust. It could only be purchased from a crime syndicate known as The Praedictas Fatales. The Praedictas Fatales were the most vicious and ruthless gang in New York City.

Moe's time in the center was not cheap, nor was his mounting debts to The Praedictas Fatales, which Belle struggled to pay each month. That was why the job at Gold Books was a heaven sent. It was horrid, and not at all in her field- she had a bachelors in English literature and writing with dreams of becoming a novelist- but it paid and paid well.

She had made the off handed comment in her interview with Mary Margret, that at the rate they were offering she said she might as well be selling her soul. Mary Margret didn't laugh.

Belle crossed the visitor hall to the far table where her father sat. She pulled out one of uncomfortable white plastic chairs and joined him.

"Hello father," she said quietly, "How are you?"

"I'd be better if I wasn't stuck in this hell hole," Moe grumbled.

"They say you're making progress," Belle said, "I'm sure you'll get discharged soon."

Moe grunted in reply.

"I started a new job," Belle offered after a moment.

"Oh really? Got enough to pay off the Praedictas Fatales?" Moe asked.

"I'm making the payments," she said shortly.

"Man, I can't wait to get out of here and get back to my apartment."

"Father, I told you, I couldn't pay the rent for both our apartments and this facility and the Praedictas Fatales," Belle sighed, "I would have moved into your apartment, but the rent was too high."

"But you have a new job, you'll get it back right? My apartment?" he prodded.

"Father, I can't. I can barely make ends meet as it is."

"Hmph," he paused before saying, "It was nice seeing you today."

Belle knew this was her queue to leave, "I'll see you in two weeks, Father."


	6. Chapter 6

Monday morning came too soon. Belle had spent her Sunday editing her novel and helping Ruby plan her wedding. Ruby already had a whole pinterest board dedicated to the occasion.

Belle arrive before Mr. Gold, to a frigid office. Pulling off her coat, she upped the thermostat and settled behind her desk. Mr. Gold arrived moments later, looking annoyed that she arrived before him.

"It's sweltering in here," he snapped, and turned the thermostat down.

Belle huffed as he slammed the door to his office, and prepared the tea things. She pulled on her coat and went to deliver the drink.

"Good morning Mr. Gold," she said.

"What's so good about it?"

"You know? I'm not sure, considering it's like an ice box in here," she snapped.

"Oh it that why you're wearing that horrendous coat? I thought you enjoyed hurting my eyes," he said sipping his tea.

"It keeps me warm, even when I must sit with the most cold-hearted man in New York," Belle said, chin tilted defiantly.

"Well, turn up the heat if you're going to be so sensitive about it," he growled.

"I am not being sensitive, it truly cold in here! It was 40 degrees Fahrenheit when I arrived!"

"I feel fine," Gold said, "It's only frail women like you that always insist it's too cold. It's weak."

"Weak?! My apologizes for having a smaller body mass than you, but being cold is not a sign of weakness!" she cried.

"You are dismissed," he sneered, "Get out of my sight, I'm tied of looking at that awful coat."

Belle collected the tea things with a clatter and walked out, shedding her coat and turning the heat up before he could change his mind.

Lunch could not come soon enough, but soon Belle was walking across the street with Emma Swan in search of ice cream.

"So, how are you liking the job?" Emma asked as she pushed open the door to the ice cream parlor, Frozen.

"Hi Emma!" a nearly white haired young woman said from behind the counter.

"Hi Elsa!" Emma returned.

"Uhg, Gold's a positive ass!" Belle exclaimed and dropped into a booth.

"That good, hun?"

"That man! He- he- He just so condescending! And smug! And his eyes!" Belle cried with evident frustration.

"His... eyes?" Emma probed, raising an eyebrow.

"He's always watching me! It's like he can see into my soul or something. I feel so small,"

"Ice cream will help," Emma said.

She walked up to the counter and Belle begrudgingly joined her.

"What do you recommend, Elsa?" Emma asked, leaning on the counter.

"Well the triple berry is excellent, but the peanut butter and jelly is super fresh- I just made it this morning- and it's really good!"

"I guess I'll have some of the peanut butter and jelly, what do you want Belle?" Emma turned to her friend.

"Umm, Rum and raisin looks good, I have a scoop of that," she said, pointing.

It wasn't until they were sitting back in the booth that Belle realized the irony or her choice.

"Aw, damn," she groaned, "He's even in my subconscious!"

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked.

"Rum and raisin!" Belle said, holding up her ice cream, "His name is Rumold!"

"Gold's name is Rumold? That's weird," said the blonde, eating her ice cream, "Heh heh, That's good to know, though. For all anyone knew his first name was like Rumpelstiltskin or something."

"Anyway," Emma continued, "Jefferson has this weird idea that you two are like, soulmates or something."

"WHAT?!" Belle exclaimed, startling Elsa behind the counter.

"How- how could he think that? We are nothing alike! I would never _ever_ fall in love with someone as smug and cruel and horrid as- uhg! Never mind if he's intelligent and handsome and so gentle- I do not like Rumold Gold!" Belle sputtered.

Elsa behind the counter snorted, "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

Emma looked a bit surprised by Belle's outburst, "Um, yeah. Sorry I brought it up, I didn't mean to hit a nerve."

Belle glared at her ice cream like it had offended her.

Back at the headquarters of Gold Books, down in the basement where IT lived, Emma paid Jefferson a visit. She handed him a container of Black Tea Ice Cream and a spoon.

"Here," she said.

"So," Jefferson probed, "How'd it go."

"I casually mentioned that you think Belle and Gold would be soulmates and she flipped out," Emma said, "Did you know his first name is Rumold? Who names their kid Rumold?"

"You told her I thought they were soulmates?! What possessed you to do that? But more importantly, how did she flip out? What did she say?"

"She said he was smug, cruel, and horrid. She also mentioned that he was intelligent, handsome, and so gentle, what ever that means," Emma said, stealing Jefferson's spoon to taste his ice cream, "Hey this isn't bad, Elsa knows what she's doing."

"Well, they did sleep together," he said idly, playing with his hat.

"WHAT? THEY WHAT?"

"Yes, yes, it was before she started working here, don't worry. Now she obviously likes him and he her, so they just need a little push."

"What do you mean they slept together?!"

"I mean they had sex, what other way is there? Now there are three fool proof ways to get two people to fall in love. One, have them pretend to be dating. Two, have them meet in a coffee shop, preferably if one of them is a Batista- do you think Gold can make coffee? And three, lock them in a closet, bonus points if it's cold and they have to share body heat," Jefferson explained to a very confused and disturbed Emma Swan.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"Please Swan, this is fanfiction 101. Now, how are we going to get them in a coffee shop?"

"I... don't think the coffee shop plan is going to work. You'll have better luck locking them in a cold closet."

"Or..." he trailed off a raised an eyebrow.

"Or what? What are planning?"

Tuesday morning Jefferson was in Gold's office the minute he had finished his tea.

"What do you want Madden?" Rumold snapped.

"So you know how you asked me to find a suitable lady to go to the Mayor's Christmas Ball with you?: Jefferson said grinning, "Well I found her. How would you like to go to the ball with a young woman who is beautiful, intelligent, and well-read? She's about yay high, and well spoken. Brown hair, blue eyes, the most killer legs you've ever seen?"

"You said you found the perfect girl when you set me up with Zelena Greene," Gold pointed out, "But the woman you're describing does sound desirable. Go on."

"Zelena was a mistake. That's the last time I set you up with a relation of Regina's," Jefferson apologized, "But this girl I found is perfect."

"Well, who is she?" Gold spread his hands waiting for the answer.

"Belle French."

"No."

"Come on! You could pay her overtime! She already knows your a bastard so she wouldn't run away screaming like- what was her name?"

"Ella," he snapped, "And she didn't run away screaming."

"It's a good idea, you have to admit. She's beautiful and smart enough not to say something to embarrass you, just ask her?" Jefferson pleaded.

"Why are you so insistent on her and I?"

"Grace needs a godmother to go with her godfather," Jefferson said cheekily, "So you'll ask her?"

Gold groaned, "yes, yes, I'll ask if she wants overtime, but that is all it's about. Grace will have to live life with only a godfather. Send Miss French in when you leave."

Jefferson practically skipped out of the office, and Belle walked in, looking concerned.

"What's wrong with Mr. Madden?" she asked.

"Nevermind him. Would you be interested in picking up some over time?" Gold asked her.

"What kind of over time?"

"The paid kind."

"Well, yes."

"You've seen the invitation for the Mayor's Christmas Ball, I presume?"

"Yes Mr. Gold."

"I require a date to the Ball. Some one that will not embarrass me. That would be you."

"What? I-"

"You've already agreed and it would be simply business. We can discuss the details later, but it is this Saturday night. I will have a dress sent to you. Understood?"

"I- Yes, Mr. Gold, I understand," she said.

"You're dismissed," he replied, waving her away.


	7. Chapter 7

On Wednesday, the dress arrived at Belle's door step. It was a large, fancy box, wrapped in light blue paper.

"So what are you waiting for?" Ruby asked, she and Archie were sitting on Belle's couch, "Open it!"

"What if it's something horrible?" Belle asked. "What if it's a horrible color and super revealing and... frumpy?"

"He wants you to not embarrass him, why would he give you a ugly dress?" Archie asked.

"Well..." Belle pulled the string and let it drop on the floor, then she collapsed on couch, "I can't do it!"

"Oh stop being a baby!" Ruby chided, and opened the box. From inside the box she pulled a white strapless dress. It had gold embellishes across the bodice and waist that tapered off down the skirt. It was floor length, with a sweetheart top, and the skirt was flowly and full.

"Oooooh!" Ruby cooed, "Try it on! It's so pretty!"

Sighing, Belle took the garment and went into her room. Pulling the dress on she realized that it was exactly her size, fitting perfectly across her chest and around her waist. It fit like a glove, showing off the bust she thought she didn't have. It grushed the floor as she walked back out, into the living room.

"Wow! You look fabulous," Ruby said walking around her friend, "Here, there are shoes too."

Belle, who wore heels ninety-five percent of the time, was surprised to be handed flats. Mr. Gold was not a tall man, but even in her heels she was several inches shorter than him. In flats he would tower above her.

However, the shoes were pretty. White and lacey, they were delicate looking and completely not suitable for the weather they'd currently been experiencing.

Referring to the dress, Belle wrapped her arms around her self and said, "It's beautiful, but I feel so exposed."

"And your boss said this was just a business engagment?" Archie asked.

"Yes," she sighed.

"Oh! There's a coat too!" Ruby exclaimed, still looking through the packages. She pulled the last garment from the box and handed it to her friend.

Archie picked up piece of paper that fell from the coat, "There's a note. It says, 'Miss French, a warmer coat that won't give me a headache with garish colours. R. Gold,' What does that mean?"

"He said my coat was hurting his eyes," Belle explained examining it.

"Well, you'll look pretty was a picture in these," Ruby giggled, "Where do I find a job where I get paid in couture?"

"You can have mine," Belle offered.

Ruby shook her head, "I'm not that desperate."

Saturday arrived with butterflies fluttering in Belle's stomach and a tight, nervous feeling in her chest. Ruby tried to pretend like it was a fun event Belle was going to.

"It's like getting ready for Prom!" she'd said.

"I got stood up at Prom, then found my date making out with another girl," Belle pointed out. Ruby ignored this.

When the car came to take her to the Empire State building- the location for the Mayor's Christmas Ball- Belle's hair was done and her face made up. Ruby had even smeared gold body glitter across her collar bone.

Dove was driving, no surprise, but what did surprise her was when Mr. Gold got out of the car to help her in. She hadn't expected him to pick her up, to merely wait for her at the Empire State Building. Or if he did come to get her, she would have thought him to stay in the warmth of the car, and let Dove get the door.

"Dearie," he said in greeting, or perhaps acknowledgment, placing a hand on the small of her back as she got into the car.

"Hello," she said tentatively as they drove.

"You," he paused, "live there? In that building?"

"Yes, that's why I had you pick me up there," she replied.

"You should be careful, it's not a very nice neighborhood," he said, looking strait ahead.

Was he concerned? Or was this a veiled insult? Unsure how to respond, Belle remained silent on the topic, instead she said, "Is there anything I should know about tonight? People to avoid or odd topics to stay away from?"

"Hmm," he pondered this then said, "You've met Ms. Mills? Avoid her if possible. Don't talk about dogs with Ms. De Vil, or anything secret with Mr. Glass- he'll spill any bit of gossip. Stay with me and use coon sense and you'll do fine."

They spent the rest of the ride in awkward silence and did not speak again until they were at the Ball, jackets handed off to the clerk manning the coat room.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, leaning down to whisper in her ear, their new height difference apparent.

Gold was pleased how the dress he'd chosen looked on her, it was better than he imagined. She seemed much more fragile and waif-like without the added height of heels and the gold shimmer across her throat was tempting. He wanted to kiss her throat, listen to her gasp and moan as he nipped at her skin leaving red marks in his wake. He wanted to take her far far away from the party, from the city, somewhere where it would be just them.

Belle shivered, whispering, "Thank you."

Placing a hand on the small of her back, he lead her to the ball room. Tables were set up around the edges, circling the dance floor. At the far side, there were two double doors leading out to large balcony with foliage and shrubs.

Dinner was quite uneventful. They were seated with Mallory Finch (the owner of Dragon Publishing and a friend of Mr. Gold's) and her date, Lucia Blue (who Gold glared at the entire meal) and Fredrick and Abigail Knight (the Mayor's daughter and her husband).

Both Belle and Gold made polite, shallow conversation until dinner was over. Moving to mingle, Gold never lost physical contact with her whether it be a hand on her waist or her arm in his. She kept up with the conversation, interjecting occasionally which earned her little smiles from Gold.

She fetched drinks, too many perhaps, but even feeling tipsy she went to fill up their glasses again. She delivered the filled drinks successfully to find Gold in a heated debate with a man she didn't recognize- something about ebooks verses the printed page and the decline of society as we know it.

A hand grasped her elbow and pulled her a step away, "Hello Belle, fancy running into you here."

Gaston. Her ex-boyfriend of two weeks, a strapping imbecile, rich, but prone to infidelity.

Belle had no opinion of him.

"Gaston, let go of me," she hissed.

He did, and said, "What are you doing here? Well, I suppose it's obvious, since you are on the arm of Mr. Gold. You've resorted to literal gold digging, I see."

"You do not see," she snapped, "and if your opinion is so low of me, then why bother to socialize? I'm sure you have some lanky woman with you tonight, you always do."

"Is it bad of me to want to catch up with an old friend?" he asked, "especially one as pleasing as you."

"What does that supposed to mean?!" she snapped, quietly.

"Care to dance?" he asked, loudly. People turned to look.

"No thank you," Belle hissed through gritted teeth forced into a smile.

"Come, come now, we don't want to make a scene," Gaston sneered pulling her to the dance floor. He was strong, too strong and Belle felt her self being swept up in the dance.

"What are you doing?" she asked, "We broke up, you cheated on me, we're over."

"I just can't believe you're satisfied with that old man, money or not. The sex can't possibly be any good, not like what we had."

"What we had? Gaston, we had nothing. Absolutely nothing. And despite what you perverted little mind wants to think, I am not sleeping with Gold."

"Please, everyone can see the way he looks at you, the way he _touches_ you," Gaston rolled his eyes, "You're his new, shiny toy and he wants everyone to know. You must be doing something extra special in bed too, I've never seen him include any of his dates in conversation before. Does he tell you he loves you for your brain?"

"Get away from me," Belle hissed pulling away. She stormed off the dance floor and out to the balcony where the cold air chilled her temper. Moments later she felt hands slip around her waist.

"You disappeared, sweetheart, I couldn't find you," Mr. Gold said softly. His breath was warm on her skin. She sighed.

"I ran into an ex," she explained.

"Hmmm," he hummed. He was drunk and so was she, a dangerous combination with her hot skin and the cold air.

"The large boorish man?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"I believe he is watching us," he said, "Do you despise him?"

"Yes!"

"Would you like to make him jealous?" he offered, lips a hair's breathe from her flesh.

She understood what he was offering. Kisses and touches would not make Gaston believe that they weren't sleeping together, but she craved them so. And, unbeknownst to her, Gold craved her too, her warmth and body and light that he had only sampled two weeks ago.

She turned to face him, bodies pressed together, "Yes, I think we should," she breathed.

His mouth crushed hers, kissing her long and deep, with all the passion that alcohol and sexual tension brings. The broke, Belle gasping for air as Gold kissed her throat, her collar bone, training kisses closer and closer to the top of her gown, picking up gold glitter in his wake.

Belle moaned, and out of the corner of her eye, saw Gaston leave, disgusted, shaking his head. But Gold wasn't finished.

His kisses moved back to her throat and turned to nips. He left a trail of red marks on her pale skin. He clung to her, crushing her body to him, causing her breathes to become shallow.

Then he bit her. Teeth against the flesh of her throat, not hard enough to presumed skin but hard enough to leave a mark. Hard enough to bring both pain and pleasure and to leave her stifling a cry.

He pulled away and she hid in his chest, arms under his jacket, cold and hot all at the same time.

"It's late," he said into her hair, "I should get you home."

"Can't I come home with you?" she asked, muffled by his shirt.

"No, no precious, that would not be wise," he said and lead her back into the ball room, almost bumping into Lucia Blue on their way.

They managed to locate their coats and call the car. Driving back, Belle snuggled into Mr. Gold's chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he signaled to Dove to take a long way back.

"Why are you complicated?" Belle asked, "One day you're nasty and cruel and the next you're kind and kissing me. I don't understand."

He ran his fingers across her exposed skin. Silently, he began to trace little patterns.

"Why do you make me feel like this?" she whispered, hand fingering the buttons of his shirt, "Some times I think I hate you but some times I could fall in love with you."

He touched the ugly red mark that he had left on her throat.

"I could love you too," he said hoarsely, "But you'll leave like all the rest. Or I'll lose you in the end. I couldn't make you happy."

He kissed her forehead, "You won't remember this, will you my sweet?"

Belle snuggled closer.

Far too soon they reached her apartment. Helping her up to her door, he attempted to search her clutch for her keys while leaning on his cane and holding her up as well. It was a fruitless and difficult task.

"Hello? Um, are you Mr. Gold?" a soft male voice said behind him.

Turning, Gold say a red-headed man looking out of the door on the other side of the wall.

"Yes..." he replied cautiously.

"I'm Belle's neighbor, Archie Hopper," the man explained, "It looks like she'd had a little bit too much to drink?"

"Yes, I was trying to get her inside," Gold explained.

Belle chose this moment to look up and say, "You have really nice teeth."

Archie nodded, "Belle's a bit of a light weight. Here, I'll get my fiancee."

He turned and called, "Ruby! Belle's back!"

"Oh! Belle!" a tall woman with dark brown hair and smudged red lipstick appeared and helped Belle inside, finding the right key instantly. Gold and Archie followed them into her apartment.

It was small, but clean, and barely furnished. Gold was surprised at the chill in the air, but not that books covered every flat surface.

This Archie Hopper seemed to know who he was and said, "Did everything go alright tonight? Belle was nervous."

"Yes, yes, she did wonderfully. Everything went fine," the older man shifted awkwardly. He could hear Ruby talking to Belle in what he resumed was her bedroom.

"She has a lot on her plate right now," Archie said, a warning under his polite tone, "she doesn't need any more trouble."

"I see," Gold replied, wondering if he should leave.

"Okay, well, she's in bed," Ruby said emerging from the bedroom and closing the door behind her, "I take it you're Mr. Gold?"

Her tone was more accusatory than anything else.

"Yes, I was just going-"

"Your ball must have had a lot of mosquitoes," Ruby snapped, staring at him.

"What?"

"Yeah, how else would she have gotten that red mark on her throat?" Ruby said glaring at him.

Gold bowed out with out another word.


	8. Chapter 8

Belle woke up Sunday morning facing a huge headache and the Spanish inquisition.

"Good morning!" Ruby cried, throwing open the drapes, "Rise and shine!"

"Uhg, Ruby. No. Go away," Belle attempted to hide under her pillow before her friend stole it.

"It's ten in the morning; I made coffee," she said.

Belle groaned but got up, and, wrapping up in a blanket, followed Ruby into the living room.

"Geeze, it's freezing in here," the more awake of the two said.

"It's cheaper," Belle mumbled, "Why are you here, again?"

"Well, when my best friend shows up drunk, with her sexy boss, and a giant hickey on her neck, I kinda take notice."

Belle rubbed the tender spot on her throat, "Wait, Rumold was here? You met him?!"

"Yep, he's the one who brought you home. Don't you remember?"

"I remember being at the ball, and dancing with Gaston-"

"Uhg. He was there?"

"-yeah. Then I was out on the balcony with Rumold- I mean Mr. Gold- and, oh man," Belle put her face in her hand, "oh damn, Ruby, we kissed!"

"Then what?"

"Then.. I don't know. I don't remember coming home even. Just waking up this morning."

Ruby passed her a mug of coffee sympathetically, "if it makes you feel any better, after I got you in bed, Archie was out here glaring at this Gold guy."

"Archie? Glaring?"

"Well, I could tell he was glaring. You know in his '_I don't approve of your actions, there must be unresolved issues from your childhood_' way."

"Ah. Yes."

"Although Archie said Gold said it want well," Ruby sat down next to her friend, her own coffee in hand.

"Not so loud," Belle grumbled, drinking, "Hopefully that means he's not upset about the kiss."

"Yeah, I doubt he's upset, more like aroused-"

"Ruby!" Belle cried then fell back onto the couch, groaning as her head hit the pillow.

"What am I going to do?" she said.

Ruby didn't address this question, and instead asked, "What exactly is going on with you two? I mean, he's your boss, but then you guys start macking on each other. I don't know what to think."

"I don't know," Belle whispered, "I don't know."

Across town and hours later a phone was ringing.

"What?" Rumold Gold grumbled into it.

It was one in the afternoon and his hangover had faded to a dull throb above his left eye.

"So? How'd it go?Am I going to be an uncle? Is Grace going to have god-cousins?" Jefferson asked.

He was annoyingly chipper.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"How did it go with you and Belle?!"

Gold was silent.

"That good, huh?"

"I'm an idiot, Madden."

"What? What did you do!?"

"I fell in love with her."

Monday came quietly, with both parties, politely avoiding the topic of Saturday's event. Belle did not speak of it out of embarrassment. Gold held his peace in case he let his true emotions known.

During their tea he told her he wanted a shelf on one of the book cases cleaned off.

"It doesn't matter which shelf, my dear," he said gesturing vaguely, "pick a shelf and pack up the books to be sent to my apartment."

"Yes Mr. Gold," Belle replied taking the tea things away.

When she returned she pulled out the ladder. Setting it up she began clearing off the highest bookcase in the office. After the books were taken down, and packed in box, Belle returned to the case with a rag. Up on the top of the ladder she began wiping the shelf free of dust. But after a moment, she started pulling on something.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Gold asked, walking over.

"Oh, I was cleaning the shelf and my rag got stuck," she started pulling again, "I think it's stuck on a nail or somethi- oh!"

Belle fell, backward, off the ladder. Gold stared, stepping forward he caught her. Her arms wrapped around him instinctively, their eyes locked. He held her, bridal style, against his chest as long as his bum leg would allow.

He dropped her to the ground, Belle landing on her feet. Gold brushed him self off as she straitened her skirt. Belle tried to hug him but Gold stepped away, and she pulled awkwardly back too.

"Thank you," she said, breathlessly, "For saving me."

"Think nothing of it, my dear," he mumbled, walking back to his desk.

Just then, there was a knock on the office door, "Delivery for Mr. Gold."

Gold waved at Belle to get it. Opening the door, a delivery man brought in a large box. Gold grinned, telling Belle to open it.

She pulled off the tape and gasped.

"It's full of books!"

"Aye, they are Advanced Reader Copies- ARCs for short. I get them multiple times a year before they are sold in my stores. I like to read what I'm peddling to the public," Gold explained.

"Wow there are so many! So none of them are available to read yet?" she asked.

"That's right dear," he was enjoying her enthusiasm, "Pick one that interests you and come read it to me."

Belle grinned back and him, then went through the books, making stacks and methodically reading the back of each. Gold, meanwhile, moved from his desk to the couch and waited for her to choose. Finding her book, Belle joined him on the couch, barely noticing the change.

They read. She read to him and, by the time it was time for her to go home, she was curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

She jumped up, pulling away, face flushed, and left as quickly as she could.

The walk home was cold, but her face still flushed. What was she doing? How did she just let herself do things like that? Like snuggling with him on the couch or kissing him at the party. It was destructive.

Rich men were dangerous, Gaston had shown her that. But she felt like Gold was different. He seemed to know her much better even in the short time they were acquainted. But should she really risk her job and heart for him?


End file.
